I have been thinking a lot the past few days. Usually this leads to a very dark place that I have a hard time coming back from. I so very don’t want to ever go back to that place ever again. Often when I find myself headed to this place these days, I just shut down the thoughts and go to my happy place and lalalalalala…..it doesn’t matter anymore.
But sometimes the dark side creeps up on me.
What I am thinking about is my biggest disappointment. That, of course, is and always will be having to leave Jerusalem. Despite all of the wonderful things that have happened since, and I don’t want to say they are any less amazing or wonderful, leaving that city will always be the biggest disappointment of my life and one I can never fix.
Of course that leads directly to a situation of lashon harah (something very bad which was said about me by someone else to many people, regardless of whether it was true or not, who then believed it carte blanche without question because the person telling them wanted them to – take it from me, as our sages say, the evil tongue, lashon harah, does kill a person when it spreads and it never should.)
The worst case of this spread of lashon harah is when it was told to my father. Today I had to accept that without question, without asking me, without any doubt whatsoever, my father believed it. I had to accept today how very much this has hurt me…how truly deeply it sears my soul to not be believed by my very own father and worse, to have him automatically believe the worst of me without ever even conceiving that he should even believe the better.
This takes me back to when I was 17 years old and some piece of scum walked into my father’s nightcluband told him I was “the best he ever had.” My father came home and beat the living shit out of me with a razor strap. It happened without warning so quickly I barely even knew WHY I was being beaten and defense? Absolutely none. And mercy. Really? I was guilty without a trial.
And that’s how it remains today.
Guilty without a trial. It’s just like it was when I was 17 – and my father’s opinion of me has never changed. For a man who molested me, this is actually….well, I don’t even know what it is.
Today I had to accept all of this. And obviously I need to act on it but I don’t have any idea what to do. I didn’t have therapy so I didn’t have a chance to talk to my therapist – that will have to wait a week. In the meantime, I am just going to process it and not worry about what to do about it. I am going to let it sit there. I am not going to roll it over and over and ride with it under my arm to the dark place. I’ll just wait a while until I can talk to Kellye and then I’ll know what to do and I’ll act on it and send it on it’s way.
This is something I really don’t want to think about.
This is betrayal at it’s very worst. It’s betrayal, lies, deceit, it’s a whle lifetime of what I had built up in my mind as support from my father that never was and all that “never was” just crumbled away….I guess.
But as unreal as all of that was – the hurt is VERY real. I am devastated. I am shot through with devastation. I am lying on the floor, curled up in my grief for what I thought existed and never did. I am once again afraid to trust, afraid of people, afraid of the world.
And I know it had led to both a setback and a step forward. Hopefully they will cancel each other out.
Time will only tell.v